


Not Too Late

by ballerinaroy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Multi, Post-War, The Golden Trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 00:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16230638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballerinaroy/pseuds/ballerinaroy
Summary: Harry had thought he was doing the right thing when he ended the brief, but intense, relationship he shared with Ron and Hermione while hunting Horcruxes. None of them thought they were going to survive after all. He's convinced they never would have included him if any of them had an inkling they were going to live. But how will Harry fair when he's forced to watch Ron and Hermione's relationship bloom? Will he be strong enough to stick with his convictions?





	Not Too Late

They don’t talk about it.

Not for the first time that night Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione who lay tangled in Ron’s bed, passed out with wands in one hand and the other gripping to each other. The longing that rises in Harry’s chest isn’t new. And not for the first time that night or even that minute Harry reminded himself that it was his choice. That they had let him decide. And though he knew it was right, he can’t help the second thoughts.

It was the most uncomfortable breakup. No one knew that they’d ended it and no one had even known that they were together. No one thought anything of Harry sleeping in the camp bed in Ron's room, it was where he'd always stayed at the Burrow. They still spent their days together playing Quidditch and chess by the fire. They laughed at Charlie’s stories and got drunk off of the wine that Bill had bought from a muggle shop. It was easy pretending then, acting the same as they would have if they’d still been together. Though the war was over, they were still in hiding. 

But when night came, and the house grew quiet and Ron and Harry went to their room the silence nearly killed him. Ron didn’t know what to say. He never had the entire time. They’d tried at first with forced conversations and awkward small talk. But Ron had quickly lost heart so instead, they waited in silence until Harry pretended to go to sleep and Hermione would sneak upstairs. When they actually thought him asleep, or when he’d doze, he could hear them kissing, the soft moans of Hermione and grunts that Ron made whenever Hermione’s nails raked his chest.

Harry heard a sigh and shut his eyes quickly, not wanting to be caught looking at them. For a full minute, he forced himself to lay still, concentrating on breathing in and out slow enough to fool them if they didn’t look too close. Unable to stand it, he opened his eyes to see that Hermione had rolled over in her sleep, her hand still on Ron’s chest but a small gap now between them.

He thought of how he had filled the space, Ron’s arms wrapped around him and Hermione whispering for him to drop his knees. Harry had never realized that he slept curled so tightly until them. And it wasn’t until they made him stop that he could sleep through the night without waking in a panic. Loneliness filled his chest as he stared at them and his heart ached for their touch.

Though he’d broken it off and he had known that it was best, Harry had never felt so miserable. Knowing that it wasn’t fair and that he’d be unable to sleep with their matched breathing so close to him but not in his ear and hot on his cheeks, Harry forced himself to sit up, deciding to kip out outside of the door where he’d be far enough away and not tempted. Silently he got to his feet, grabbing his pillow and a blanket in his arms hastily.

The floor squeaked beneath his feet as he crept towards the door and he looked to see that they hadn’t woken only to find Hermione’s startled eyes staring at him.

“Harry?” she whispered to him in a confused voice.

It had been the first time that she’d spoken his name since it had ended. He hadn’t realized how much that he’d missed her voice until then, even saying something so short. She looked at the blankets waded in his arms and then to him in confusion.

In shame he stared down at them, licking his lips for inspiration.

“Please,” she whispered, not asking for an explanation.

Harry forced himself not to look at her, forced himself not to even let the word roll around in his head. He knew that moment that he saw her big brown eyes that it would be too late for him. He turned to leave but not soon enough. The soft sound of her weeping met his ears and Harry, unable to hurt her, turned.

Tears fell from the corners of her eyes slowly. She’d brought a hand to her mouth to stifle them and he could see from the tug of her soft cheeks that she was bitting her lips to stop the sound. The tender sight brought the tears back to Harry’s eyes and before he could stop himself before he could think well enough to force himself to leave, he’d already let his hand fall from the door.

Hermione’s eyes closed, unable to watch him walk away and she drew her knees to her chest to stop her shaking. Harry softly dropped his things to the floor and without thinking walked over to her, standing at the edge of the bed and reached out to set a hand on her shoulder. Instantly she latched onto it. Wrapping her hand around his, she guided it to her face, pressing her moistened cheek against his palm. Her bare skin Harry made weak in the knees. The pain in his heart doubled and he felt like sobbing too.

She tugged at him until unwillingly Harry carefully climbed over Ron and sat cross-legged beside Hermione. With familiarly he wrapped his arms around her, holding her loosely until she threw her arms around him, sobbing loudly against his chest and shaking so much that the bed creaked. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, the comforting scent of her vanilla lotion and spearmint toothpaste filling his nostrils. The ache in his chest blossomed and was unable to stop himself from kissing her forehead then cheeks and nose and finally slipped, kissing her on the mouth.

The moan that escaped his lips only encouraged her, Hermione’s tears finally stopping as she touched the sides of his face and ran her fingers through his hair. His hands worked on their own accord, going over her small frame and one hand landed in the small of her back, pressing gently until she uncrossed her legs, climbing up until she straddled him, pushing him back until he lay dangerously close to the edge of the bed his head hitting the fame though he didn’t care about the pain.

Beside them Harry felt Ron move and then felt Hermione’s mouth leave his, leaving him breathless and dizzy. He opened his eyes to see what was happening only for her soft lips to be replaced with Ron’s plumper lips, cracked and tasting like chocolate and earth. Harry was brought back to a time to the night before the battle had begun, all of them desperate and needy. Positive that they were all going to die and worried sick about each other. It was the last night that they’d ever spent together, the last time that they were alone and when Harry had decided that it wouldn’t be fair for them to continue at the sake of the relationship that Ron and Hermione deserved.

He felt hands under his shirt, pushing it up and reached out, gripping Hermione’s wrist gently and pulling it away. Ron pulled away and he looked up to find them staring at him, hurt looks on their faces. Forcing himself to sit up, though Hermione still sat on his lap, Harry swallowed, shaking his head.

“Please,” Ron whispered, though Harry had never heard him beg.

The word tugged at his heart and Hermione took his hand again, kissing his palm while staring at him with the big brown eyes that she knew Harry could never refuse.

“Just one night,” she whispered before going back to kissing him, waiting for him to pull away.

He knew it wrong. That it would only hurt in the morning and that it would be unfair to them. But their needy looks and the sadness behind it tore him down, he had never been able to reject them and finally, he closed his eyes in consent and nodded once.

 

 

Harry had snuck out of the room early in the morning. He felt shameful and dirty. Not because of what he had done, but due to the lack of remorse that he had. Instead, he’d forced himself to leave the bed in a feeble attempt to not to get sucked into their morning. He’d showered in darkness, grateful that no one else was awake to question him before escaping outside and grabbing his broom from the shed and raced around the edge of the property, getting dangerously close to the edge of their safe place. The sun had risen and finally, Harry forced himself to go back towards the Burrow, not particularly wanting to see them, but his hunger was getting the best of him.

To delay the encounter for as long as possible, Harry had landed at the farthest point of his ride and walked back towards the Burrow, broom over his shoulder. From a distance he could see someone waiting for him and for a moment he thought that Ron had come out to say something. He stopped in his tracks, dreading whatever he would say. He hoped that Ron had come out to yell at him, tell him to stay away and stick to his choice. But even more than that he hoped that he’d come out to beg Harry to come back. Harry’s moral convictions had already been dropped the night before. If Ron had come to beg him, he knew that he couldn’t stay away.

The red-head at the shed spotted him and waved, it so uncharacteristic of Ron that it caused Harry to squint and realize quickly that it wasn’t Ron waiting for him but Ginny, her hair up in a bun and her sweats she wore to bed still on. Wondering what exactly she would have to say, and worried that he’d been caught, Harry set a slow pace, giving a small wave back.

“Hey,” he said when they were close enough not to yell and she gave him a warm familiar smile.

“I heard you leave early,” she explained, watching as he put away his broom and then accepted the cup of coffee that she’d carried out for him. “I wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

Harry forced himself to nod and explain, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Whether Ginny believed him or not he couldn’t tell, but he quickly figured out that it wasn’t her only intention. They stood in silence for a long moment before Harry finally cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I think that I’m going to go in-“

“I brought some food out,” Ginny said quickly, gesturing to the bag that she’d set on the ground beside her just out of Harry’s view. “I was hoping that we could talk.”

Unable to come up with a legitimate excuse and still unwanting to encounter Ron or Hermione, Harry nodded forcing himself to smile at her. “Alright.”

“Care for a walk?” she asked, looking back at the house as if someone could see them.

Before he could answer Ginny had already picked up the bag and begun walking in a clearly planned direction. Forced to follow, Harry took stride beside her, keeping up with her quick pace. They walked towards the trees where they’d played hide and seek with Fred, George, and Ron one summer, and past the place where Ginny had stumbled upon a device that the twins had ‘accidentally’ left there which had blown up in her face, effectively ending the game and causing Mrs. Weasley to ground the twins for the afternoon for singeing Ginny’s hair.

Finally Ginny arrived at the place she’d planned, an unsuspecting tree where she sat down and looked up at him expectantly. Harry sat, careful to keep his distance and accepted the biscuits and picked up a couple of kippers from the bowl that Ginny produced.

“Ginny-“ Harry started when he was no longer able to stand the silence and her expression made him stop.

She chewed the rest of her bite and then looked at him sadly. “I thought that you would come to me.” She said to him, “I know that this is all fresh and new and that you need your space but-“ she paused, looking up at him hopefully but her faint smile faded. “I guess I need to know what happens next.”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to lie to her, but also knew that he couldn’t tell the truth. Harry had never allowed himself to think about what it all meant and now that it was over the residual feelings only left him more confused. Harry had always told himself that it was simply because they were his best friends. They had spent so much time together and done so many impossible things. It had felt natural because of their bond and was, at least at first, just a way to relieve the stress and tension of the task that they’d taken on. He’d never meant for it to leave the tent.

Aware that Ginny was still staring at him expectantly, Harry forced himself to swallow the food that he’d been chewing while he thought and looked over at her. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, this not being the words he’d meant to say and the hurt deepening in her eyes only making him feel worse. “It’s all still so fresh. I-“ he paused, wanting to pull her in his arms and avoid the conversation. It would, after all, be the easiest solution, them getting back together. But it would be unfair to them both. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to promise you anything.”

There weren’t tears in her eyes though there might as well have been. Her hurt look made his stomach sink and he looked at the half-finished biscuit in his hand with disgust.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

She nodded, wiping away nonexistent tears from the bottom of her eyes. “I’d expected as much.” She gave a small laugh and looked at him. “That sounded cruel, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Maybe in a few years-“

“Do you mean that?” she asked him, not looking particularly like she believed him.

For a moment he considered it, imagining a future with the two of them as he had so many times when they were together. Years from now when they were married, laying in bed on Saturday, her reading him the post as they talked about nothing. But just as quickly the image was replaced with his head on Hermione’s lap, the smell of burnt bacon coming from the kitchen where Ron was trying to fix them something. His heart yearned for that, and when he looked at Ginny once again he realized suddenly how little he felt for her.

“No,” he admitted.

They stared at each other in surprise, Harry unable to look away from her. He wished that he felt how he once had for her. He wished that he could turn back time to before when he was sure that after the war had ended that he’d have a future with her. His heart yearned still, but not for her. Suddenly he was sure of Ron and Hermione in a way that he was never sure of Ginny. He and Ginny’s future always seemed so far away but with them, with them, it was there. And foolishly he’d pushed them away.

“Is there someone else?” Ginny asked of him and Harry looked at her in shock. “You said that you wouldn’t meet anyone but-“

“Yeah,” he confessed in a low voice, blushing spectacularly though he was still unable to look away.

“How did you meet her then?” she asked rapidly, tears in the corners of her eyes.

For a second his mouth worked and then finally, he answered, unable to come up with the proper words, “I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Do Ron and Hermione know?”

It took him a moment to process her question, worried for a brief moment that they’d been found out. When he finally understand what she’d asked Harry forced a blank look. “I can’t talk about it.” He answered again.

Ginny looked hurt still but not surprised. Finally, she looked away from him and he felt himself breathe a sigh of relief, occupying himself with the food still in his hand, wondering if it was the end of their conversation.

“I always thought… If we could just-“ she paused and shook her head. In silence he waited until Ginny finally turned to him, giving him a small shake of her head. “I thought you were the one.”

And without another word she stood, leaving him speechless as he watched her walk away.

 

 

It was nearly noon before Harry wandered back towards the house, Ginny’s bag in hand. He looked through the window before entering the empty kitchen. Taking his time, he washed out the bowl and set her bag on a chair for her to find. Carefully he crept up the stairs, thankful that her door was closed and surprisingly didn’t pass anyone as he walked, determined now that he knew what he wanted.

The door to the bedroom was shut and, thinking better of it, knocked, waiting for Ron’s voice to call out to allow him to enter. They sat facing each other on the bed in serious conversation and looked surprised to see him as he entered.

“Can we talk?” he asked in a small voice and Hermione nodded quickly, moving automatically to give him enough space to sit between them.

He instead sat on his bed facing them, watching as they turned to face him, Ron’s legs hanging off the side of the bed while Hermione kept her’s crossed. Though he’d rehearsed what exactly he would say a thousand times he suddenly drew a blank and looked at them sheepishly.

“Where is everyone?” he blurted out.

In surprise, they looked at each other before Ron turned back to him. “Bill went with Dad to Aunt Muriel’s to clear out the rest of their things. Mum and Fleur went to the market, Percy had some business to attend too and Charlie took George and Ginny somewhere.” He explained, ticking them off on his fingers. He looked to Hermione and Harry had a feeling that they had been discussing Ginny when he’d interrupted them. Hermione gave him an encouraging look and Ron added. “Ginny seemed upset about something.”

“We broke up,” Harry said in a small voice, unable to look at them suddenly. “Well, ended things officially at any rate.”

He glanced up to see Hermione giving Ron a smug look that she gave whenever she won an argument and Ron shrugged at her, looking back at Harry carefully.

“You left early this morning.” Hermione inquired in a small voice, a hint of pride still present in her tone. “And I didn’t see you get any lunch.”

“I needed some time to think, flew around the grounds.” He answered her, still not having the courage to discuss exactly when he’d been thinking about. “Ginny caught me when I was putting my broom away. We sat and had a chat.”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other again making Harry feel uncomfortable. He cleared his throat to get their attention and they looked straight at him, waiting.

“Well?” he demanded, feeling increasingly anxious.

“We figured as much,” Ron answered with an unsure expression, not understanding exactly what Harry wanted.

Still, he looked at them and finally Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. “What do you want with us Harry?” she looked at Ron for backup, who shrugged and then crossed her arms. “We’re not going to throw ourselves at you. You’re the one who ended things with us. You’re the one who decided that we were too much of a hassle-“

“That’s not true-“

“Too much of a hassle to stay together with.” She finished with a firm look and Harry bit his lip, watching as she animatedly spoke. “If you don’t want to be with us, don’t be with us. But you could have broken it off with Ginny for any number of reasons. We can’t read your mind and we’re not just going to sit here waiting for you to come back. You made your choice.”

“And if I made the wrong choice?” he asked in a small voice, glancing up at them.

Visibly Hermione softened and she let her shoulders relax, looking at Ron again who smiled, taking her hand. “Then we have a lot to talk about.”

Bravely Harry stood and walked the short distance to sit down on the bed beside her. They both turned to look at him, he now close enough to hear their quickened breathing.

“This isn’t a promise Harry,” Ron said in a commanding tone, forcing Harry to look at his face rather than the place where Ron and Hermione’s hands were joined. “You did break up with us.”

“I know,” he answered, looking straight at them, hoping that they could see the honesty in his eyes. “And that was a terrible mistake.”

Ron and Hermione shared a long and significant look. Finally, the corner’s of Ron’s mouth ticked upward and Hermione softened. Harry felt himself sigh in relief as Hermione turned to him. “Then we have a lot to talk about.”

 


End file.
